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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761649">Gallifreyan English (Because Rose Tyler Refuses to Refer to It by the Other Name)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergallifreyan/pseuds/gingergallifreyan'>gingergallifreyan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Innuendo, Meddling TARDIS, the usual, ya know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:27:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergallifreyan/pseuds/gingergallifreyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose has realized that if she was going to learn anything about this strange alien man with whom she'd decided to travel, she was going to have to get it from a different source. Luckily, the TARDIS has something in mind to help her, which leads to an attempt at a prank, which becomes a tradition.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gallifreyan English (Because Rose Tyler Refuses to Refer to It by the Other Name)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/beworthylove/gifts">beworthylove</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What's this???? A fic, from gingergallifreyan????? What is happening??????</p><p>Thank you to beworthylove for beta'ing. I messed with it some after she looked at it, so please forgive any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Time Lords, Time Lords,” she muttered. Rose scanned every book spine on every shelf of the seemingly endless library in the TARDIS. The Doctor had shooed her away, encouraged her to explore her new space ("Get lost," is how he phrased it), while he made some repairs. She clicked her tongue after rounding what felt like the hundredth shelf, so she stopped and leaned back against the dusty tomes. “Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot about you getting in my head. To be fair, he should have told me. And now, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about being a Time Lord, but I need to know who I’m traveling with. Do you have anything that could help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few aisles over, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> grabbed her attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Translating Gallifreyan,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she read. “Gallifreyan… is… is that, like, his language or something?” She flipped through the pages and recognized the geometric shapes immediately. “He’s got sticky notes with these all over, and he couldn’t be bothered to answer when I asked about them. This is a good start, I suppose, so I’ll borrow this if you don’t mind.” With no answer from the time machine, she curled up on a sofa by the fireplace to peruse her prize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A year later, she’d taken to writing Gallifreyan script, practicing in her free time. Easy enough, because she’d learned from the book that Gallifreyan writing was a dictation of the sounds of the language. All she had to do was figure out how to put the symbols together to represent words, and what better way to show the Doctor what she’d learned than to write him a letter. Then he regenerated, and she didn’t feel right giving it to this new Doctor. The letter wasn’t anything too special, but it had been for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one with blue eyes and big ears</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She tucked the old letter into the drawer of her night stand in the TARDIS and pulled out a new paper. Nothing came to her, however. What to say? She’d only just met him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought about their exchange on Christmas, about how since he’d changed, they might feel differently about traveling together. Of course she didn’t, she’d told him. She’d made up her mind a long time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This Doctor was much more playful, and though she missed the brooding, sarcastic, sexy grump he used to be, she didn’t mind the change. His gorgeous smile had quickly moved to the top of her list of wonders in the universe, not that the old smile hadn’t been before. No, she would take a different approach with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose said goodbye to Jackie for the day, promising to return for dinner, and made her way to the TARDIS. Not to her surprise, the Doctor had taken up residence beneath the console to make a few repairs. “Hello, Doctor,” she called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rose!” he said before his head popped up through the opening in the grating. There was that winning smile, and Rose couldn’t help but grin right back. “What a pleasant surprise. Sorry, no travel yet. The fluid links got a bit jostled in our landing, and if those break, we’ll have a mercury problem, and I’m not fond of that possibility, especially with a human on board.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No travel needed, just thought I’d pay you a visit.” She circled round the console until she reached the scanner, examining the Doctor’s sticky notes. Her plan formulated further. Though she could sort of read the messages, she couldn’t understand the words she picked up from the sounds she could decipher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” He scrubbed the back of his neck and disappeared again. “Mind giving me a hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, whatever you need.” Rose peered around the column to check he wasn’t looking, so she sauntered over to his coat draped over the coral strut near the doors. He kept the yellow stack of stickies in one of the inside pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brilliant!” God, wasn’t his voice just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he smiled. She shivered. Her feelings for the Doctor definitely hadn’t changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sticky notes in hand, she took a seat and scribbled her note as carefully as she could. She’d had plenty of practice forging her mum’s signature, and she’d seen his handwriting enough to be confident she could mimic it. Pulling one of the Doctor’s notes from the monitor that looked similar, she pocketed it and replaced it with her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You coming?” She jumped at his voice. Luckily, he was still beneath the grating and hadn’t seen the switch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” She scrambled to return the stack of stickies to his coat and nearly danced down the steps to meet him, laughing as he picked her up from the last tread and spun her around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week later. He hadn’t said anything about her prank. Surely he’d've noticed by now. “Doctor?” she said, as he explained more of the controls to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” He stepped closer. Her insides turned to goo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, ehm, know you changed, but did the TARDIS at all? Have you noticed anything… different?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not particularly. Sometimes she changes with me. She’s had some lovely interiors, but this time she didn’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing at all? Not even a little thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’ve given her a thorough inspection. If anything had changed, I would have noticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re absolutely sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes narrowed and turned his head slightly, leaning in. “What are you on about, Rose Tyler?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing. Just curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what they say about curiosity.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “You don’t have nine lives and you’re definitely not any less jeopardy-friendly.” He spun away to examine the other controls. “We should be ready to leave soon. D’you think Jackie’s had enough time yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I should stay a bit longer.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I know you get itchy feet when it comes to domestics and you’re more than ready to be off, but if I leave too soon I’ll never hear the end of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I don’t intend on being in Jackie’s bad graces again.” He rubbed his cheek to her amusement. “I might take a test flight or two just to be sure she’s up to snuff, but don’t worry. I’ll be back for you in no time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? You might come back and I’ll be old and wrinkly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That again? That happened a long time ago.” He leaned on the console next to her, crossing his arms and ankles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just saying. Last time it was a whole year. This time it could be a whole fifty years or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t even leave Earth. Just a quick hop in time. You won’t even know I’m gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You promise? I’m not having you leave me stuck here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All levity left his expression. “I promise, Rose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” she replied softly, eyeing his mouth, miserably resisting the urge to tug on his pouty bottom lip with her teeth. She reflexively chewed hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides!” He’d been loud enough for her to startle, a grin suddenly lighting his features. “The TARDIS wouldn’t let me leave you if I tried, not that I ever would.” He turned to check the monitor a few steps away. “She likes you too much. Sometimes more than me, I think, and that’s hardly fair, considering I’ve been her pilot for centuries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted. “If you banged me about as much as you do her, I wouldn’t like you either.” Her cheeks warmed as she realized how that sounded. The sentiment was far from the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His adam’s apple bobbed, enough for her to notice, and his eyes clearly avoided hers. “The eighties. I might visit the eighties on my test run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few weeks later and he still hadn’t noticed. She couldn’t imagine how, considering he’d changed a few to remember what parts he needed to pick up on their next shopping trip. Time to try again. “Doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Rose?” He was perusing a star map on the scanner for their next destination, glasses perched atop his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s over here?” She pointed to a cluster of stars next to her sticky note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There?” He pointed at the same location.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Doctor. What’s right here?” She moved her finger slightly closer to the paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean this cluster of stars?” His finger circled the area wide enough to graze the edge of the screen where the note was attached, and she would be lying if she didn't say she was jealous of the monitor. “You want to know what’s right there?”<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him incredulously. Surely he was taking the mick, but his face gave away nothing. “Yeah, I want to know what’s right here.” She tapped the scanner. “Right here, Doctor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, right there—” he tapped the scanner—“is a planet covered entirely by water and the entire population lives in underwater cities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, a planet-sized aquarium?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And I happen to know one of those cities is named Bikini Bottom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sod the sticky, she could try again later. “After SpongeBob SquarePants?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Complete with a Krusty Krab.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pull the other one, Doctor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not pulling your leg. It’s the future’s fascination with old Earth culture. Would you fancy a Krabby Patty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not paying this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Months later, on an impossible planet orbiting a black hole, the Doctor and Rose had settled into their hopefully non-permanent quarters (if the Doctor could figure out how to reach the TARDIS). Never mind that the tiny room hosted bunk beds. They were pressed together, sitting side-by-side, on the bottom mattress. Neither said a word until the Doctor sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a confession to make,” she started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I see your journal? I need to show you.” He rifled in the inner pocket of his jacket for the small leather-bound book and the pen he kept with it. She scooted away so he couldn’t look over her shoulder, and with the tip of her tongue caught between her pursed lips, she drew the symbol she’d written long ago on the yellow sticky note. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at it for some time. Sighing, he said, “I have a confession to make, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” He patted the space next to him, and she happily nestled into his side, his arm around her shoulders. “Promise you won’t slap me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t actually Gallifreyan for ‘penis.’ It’s the symbols for the Gallifreyan sounds which, when put together, make the English word ‘penis.’ In Gallifreyan it means nothing. You’ve essentially written nonsense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her jaw dropped and she leaned away from him. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It took me a few moments to translate it, but once I put two and two together I had a right laugh. Genuinely I say it’s been one of the funniest things to ever happen to me, and I’ve seen my share funny things. Oh, you should have been there when I carved </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was here </span>
  </em>
  <span>in ancient Greek high up on an obscure wall and then went to the future when historians discovered and translated it, but this one takes the cake. Well done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve known about my sticky note this whole time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was amusing, watching you grow increasingly frustrated with my apparent aloofness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask me why I did it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you write ‘penis’ in Gallifreyan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember after you took me to watch my planet blow up, you told me you were alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and you said, ‘There’s me,’ and you had to pay for chips.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did, you cheap skate. I had realized on that trip that I decided to travel with someone I didn’t know, which was really stupid of me. So I asked the TARDIS to give me anything in the library that might help since you didn’t seem to want to share much. She gave me this book about translating the script.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and you would have sat your A Levels in French. You’re good with languages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She smiled. “Yeah, so I started practicing writing Gallifreyan, and I—well. I sort of wrote you a letter, the last you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, because I wanted you to know you’re not alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Rose Tyler.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was soft, almost reverent. “You didn’t have to learn to write Gallifreyan incorrectly for me to know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears pricked behind her eyes as she took in the fondness in his gaze, and it stole her breath. He, the Doctor, was a vault when it came to matters of the heart. He rarely let his guard down, and when he did, it never lasted long. Even when they had downtime on the TARDIS, when they took time to watch a movie or read together in the library, he allowed himself to be comfortable with her, whether it was eagerly cuddling on the sofa, resting his head in her lap, practically purring, while she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair as she read, the grin he reserved for only her after a good adventure, but he never talked about what he might feel, and she’d never pressed. He was a master of evasion; goodness knew he’d had plenty of practice with other things in his life. </span>
  <span>She’d enjoyed all those times with him, when they were incredibly close and neither of them could have denied their feelings, but neither wanted to acknowledge what had grown between them. Her, for fear of him running away, and him, because of the implications of fully sharing himself with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there he was, staring at her openly, not making any attempt to flee. Tears threatened more. “But now you’ve lost your home. The TARDIS, she’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, she’s merely displaced. I’m not leaving this planet without her.” The sadness in his eyes betrayed the surety in his voice. “Anyway, you wrote me a letter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was trying to, but now it doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t have made sense anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I read it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s on the TARDIS.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then. I’m definitely finding her. In the meantime…” He held up his journal. “Here.” He scribbled below her handwriting and handed it to her. “Read it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She furrowed her brow. “But won’t it not make sense to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m doing the same thing you did. Rearranging Gallifreyan sounds to make English. Gallifreyan English. Gallifre—Gallifrenglish. That’s what we’ll call it, Gallifrenglish."<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know about that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you and I will be the only two in the universe who know how to read it."<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She studied it through the swirl of butterflies in her stomach. “Black hole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brilliant. Now you write something for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you want to pass notes back and forth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the general idea, yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed. “Ooo, Shareen and I used to get in so much trouble for this in school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hardly surprised,” he noted as she wrote. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>ood,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he translated. They traded notes back and forth until she was too tired to stay awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years later and a parallel world away, the Doctor and Rose were celebrating their first Christmas together in Pete’s World. They’d decided to exchange their gifts early on Christmas morning before meeting the rest of the family for breakfast. After they’d finished, and after a thorough snog, Rose said, “One last present.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grin was brighter than the lights on the small tree in the corner of the room. “One more? For me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She fished in her overnight bag for the small package.<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tore delightedly at the paper like the child he was. “Oh, Rose.” He stroked the cover of the familiar leather-bound book, and he pulled her to sit between his legs, her back pressed to his front. “My journal. I missed this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. You’d passed it to me, but I didn’t get to it in all the mess with the Daleks and Cybermen. Not until I was over here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened it to the page of his last message for her, conveniently bookmarked by the old sticky note she’d taken from the scanner. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“How long are you going to stay with me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That kept me going. I had to find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you did.” He nuzzled her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. I made you a promise, Doctor, and I wasn’t going to break it, and I never will.” She gently took the book from his hands and wrote, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few lifetimes later, the Doctor and her companions strode through the desert in search of the Ghost Monument. Graham complained about sand in his eyes; she felt in her inner coat pocket for her sunglasses, but her fingers brushed a tiny sheet of paper. After handing the shades to her friend, in the quiet moments that followed, she pulled out the bright yellow sticky note she’d kept with her in every regeneration after she wore brown pinstripes. Her eyes traced the familiar lines and circles of the Gallifrenglish word that had given her strength to carry on and courage in her darkest moments, a message lovingly bestowed upon her by one Rose Tyler:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Penis</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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